Waiting
by MindExplosions
Summary: Reaching the corner, she turned back and stopped when she reached the center of the rail once more. She lifted her hands to form a sort of human crucifix and stood, waiting. Just waiting. Kyoya/OC Based on the song Hummingbird by Juliet Piper.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_**I fell down**_

She looked sullenly at the glowing embers of her cigarette. Sitting in the dark she knew there was a matching circle cooling on her arm-even if she couldn't feel the burn. Katie took her free hand and ran her index finger along the grooves and bumps on her arm. Scars and scabs and open cuts marked her journey to this moment. One spot felt sticky and she knew the wound was still open.

It didn't hurt. That should have been a comfort, but it wasn't. She craved the pain these days. She wanted it-needed it. She knew that if she hurt, she was still alive and not just floating in the gelatinous mold that had come to define her life, her feelings. It was almost as if she was stuck in jello-every movement shook her like an earthquake-every vibration seeming insurmountable-unconquerable. But no matter how hard she swam, and kicked, and clawed she couldn't escape her jello walls.

She felt the heat of her cigarette inching closer to her lips, the scent of menthol tickling her nose. She plucked it from her lips and touched it once more to her already scarred skin and held it against her arm until she felt its heat die, and the red embers slowly fade away.

She listened to the ocean through the slightly open car window. She didn't light another cigarette-she needed time to adjust to what had just happened. Burning. That was new. She'd never done that before-afraid of the possible outcomes. She had heard that burn marks always looked new. She'd even heard that no matter how callused you've become, it still hurts.

But it hadn't hurt. That's what she was adjusting to. It was supposed to hurt. That's why she'd done it. Last try, last chance to feel real to show proof of life.

"So what's the point now anyway?" she wondered aloud. Her voice echoed in the silence of her car. Opening the door she stepped out and lit another Marlboro. She again watched the red embers flicker at its tip. She watched as she inhaled-the red glowing brighter, and then falling away to become part of the sand as she advanced to the water's edge.

As the cold water tickled her sandal-clad feet she took another drag, then put the cigarette out in the wet sand. She stared out at the sea with her hands shoved into her pockets for warmth. Aside from the crashing waves, the beach was silent, and still. By one AM all the revelers and weekend alcoholics had gone home to sleep off their coming hangovers and regrets. She wished it was that easy-to sleep off one's remorse and classify one's pain as the experience of growing up, or better yet, as mere drunkenness. But if it was that easy, she wouldn't have seven years worth of cuts, or two years time in a psych ward, or three failed psychiatrists behind her. If it was that easy, she wouldn't be here, like this, tonight.

Katie shivered as she noted that her jeans were wet, almost to her knees. She stepped back and began to trudge up the shore to the pier. She kicked off her sandals and held them in her hand as she climbed the steps to the long wooden pier. She lit a third cigarette as she walked past the benches where the fishermen sat during the day, past the trash cans full of candy and half-eaten cotton candy. She walks past the remnants of streamers and confetti, from a birthday party that took place at sunset. She walks to the edge of the pier, and as her cigarette burns down, she climbs the wooden rail and perches with her feet dangling precariously over the deep water. She flicks her ashes into the ocean and braces herself with one hand gripping the edge of the railing. She was cold and tired but she didn't care. It was so beautiful. Dark and ominous, but comforting. Black as far as the eye could see, the moon obscured by gray clouds, the only color showing at the tips of yet unbroken waves, as the oceans natural phosphorescence glowed in scattered tips of white. She inhaled deeply, holding her breath as long as she could before she exhaled a stream of gray-white smoke, wisps of mentholated fog drifting toward the hidden moon.

The red embers died once more and she pitched the short white stub into the sea, then leaned back, holding the rail with both hands, dangling her legs over the chilly waters. She was cold, without a jacket, although she suspected that she would be cold even if she'd worn one. She was always cold inside. Like this water. The Pacific Ocean was like that. Surprisingly cold. Maybe that's why she liked it. Maybe that's why she had come here. Still holding the railing, she leaned forward and looked down into the rippling surface. All she could see was depth. Black, and black, and black, no end in sight.

How deep is it? she wondered. Deep enough she supposed what it lacked in depth, it would make up in cold. A person her size wouldn't last long without much fat to heat her body, the cold water would do her in if she didn't drown first. All she had to do was let go.

**Authors Note:**

**The first and last chapters are credited to Sarah3 on .**

**I did not write them, they came from the genius of her mind and her mind only, as far as I am concerned.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_**Winter came and went so fast**_

Kyoya sat by himself on a hill overlooking the beach.

He watched the girl burn herself numerous times, watched her revelations day by day. No one knew he left the beach house at night. No one knew she did either. No one knew a thing.

When he first saw her, he knew. It was his job, in his opinion, to know everything there was to know about everybody.

"She's pretty," he had thought. "But in her face you can see all the things she's given up on in life."

And when she snuck out that night to sit by the Pacific Ocean, he already had an idea of what she would do there.

*****

It was winter vacation for Ouran Academy, and much to everyone's dismay, Kyoya's family decided to visit the United States. California, to be exact.

Where they were, it was always warm, but the fake kind of warm. The movie set kind of warm. Like Kyoya at the Host Club: he appeared calm and welcoming but inside he was harsh and controlling and just wanted power. Or so he thought. He didn't know California could hold anything besides financial opportunity.

He had no idea he would be changed in any way this vacation.

He had no idea.

*****

The two families sat awkwardly at the table, munching on their breakfast quietly and politely. Katie's father refused to allow business at the table, for the sake of the children, he said. So they ate in silence, no one knowing what to say.

*****

The young girl was on medication. Every morning and every night she would go into her kitchen and her maids would give her tiny, pretty pills.

They made her hands shake as she pulled out her hidden cigarettes. They made her twitch as she gave Kyoya a fake, passing smile every morning. They made her frown when her assignments came out wrong, wrong, wrong, all because of the earlier mentioned shaking hands.

She was a creative writing student taking classes at the college down the street for the summer.

By the second week Kyoya found himself envying her. She had found a successful outlet for her pain. It might not have been the smartest, in fact, it was ridiculously stupid, but at least it worked. And he wanted to try it. But he was too weak, just as she had been too weak to let herself go.

Today, Kyoya wouldn't be weak. As she gave him her usual pensive smile in the hallway, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her near. So close that their lips almost touched.

"Take me with you," he pleaded, leading her to the door and out into the outside world.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: This chapter gets very dark and I'm not sure I rated this thing right, but still, review and lemme' know what you think. Sorry it took so long to get out, I had insane writer's block.**

Waiting

Chapter 3

_**I watched myself decay**_

The pair wandered the streets of California obliviously. They entered stores, showing off their falsities, faking everything.

It seemed they both had that down to a science.

What nobody seemed to realize, though, including the youngest Ootori, was Katie was not really there.

She was watching from far away, up in the sky. Disassociating. She watched as they put on their act. It was quite amusing to watch, actually. She picked up clothes, he paid for them, and she then abandoned them on the sidewalk, much to his confusion. And then she saw the beach.

She ran to the sand, disrupting a leisurely flock of seagulls.

Kyoya couldn't help but smile as she danced around the waves, not caring if her clothes got wet. The wind lifted her long blonde hair, very clichéd and very California. Her blue eyes held a kind of laughter he had never seen in her before. She looked happy.

*****

"So, Ootori, what do you like to do?"

They were lying in the sand, watching the sun set. Neither had wanted to go home.

Kyoya was unsure of what his response should be, so he went with the simplest he had.

"I am part of a Host Club at my school back in Japan."

She looked at him incredulously. "What the fuck is a Host Club?"

He winced at her bold choice of words.

"My friends and I entertain the young girls of our school after classes. It's very middle brow."

It was Katie's turn to wince. "Fuckin' Yuppie" she whispered, turning her head to look away.

"Lemme' guess," she turned back. "You also smoke Parliaments and hang out with members of the Yacht Club, right?"

"Isn't your father a member of that association?"

"Exactly."

They looked at each other for a long moment, and then burst into laughter.

"So, what do you like to do?"

Kyoya looked at her expectantly. She looked at the sky. After at least five minutes, she looked back, and with a serious face she replied, "Guys like you."

And something inside both of them clicked.

*****

And so they ended up back at her house, unsure as to how they got there. It was empty, save for a few servants, and they were both ready. Their lips touched in rushed and un-poetic ways, nothing passionate about their touch could be found. They gently lowered their bodies onto Kyoya's large bed, almost getting lost in the fluffy sheets and unnecessary frivolities. Their bodies began to move in sync and heat was all around them. Kyoya began to tease her, pulling away at random moments, choosing to kiss her neck or collarbone and playfully fondling her until he finally got her pants off.

And then he was inside her, pushing deeper and deeper. Pleasure filled both of them and as she tried to cry out, he caught it with his own mouth. It was a furious blur of hands pulling hair and thrusting and heavy set breathing, and then it was over.

He watched her sleep. He traced her features with his finger, unsure of whether he should feel accomplished (for he knew what a great lover he was) or awful for taking advantage of this girl who was in so much pain the only way she could show it was through hurting herself.

He knew everything, heard the sounds during the night. He had even seen what went on though cracks in the boors in the middle of the night. What her father did was sinful and painfully wrong, and he, the one who had always had control, had no idea how to stop it.


End file.
